.■K4759 
.H35M9 



HARRIS 

AiY SON DIANA 
BOSTON 




Book ^.tl_25Lrl.^ 



i^P^^fterii 



f 



SP E K'CER' S 

BOSTON 

41 m 



5V/ 



A COLLECTION OF 

SCARCE ACTING TRAGEDIES, COMEDIES, DRAMAS, 
FARCES AND BURLETTAS. 

UNIFOEM IN PRICE AND STTLIS. 

Each Number 12>^ cts....lO For One Dollar. 




Spencer's Boston Theatre. 



-♦— ♦, 



Price, 12 1-2 Cents, each. Ten for One Dollar. 
BOUND VOLUMES, SI. 



VOL. I. 

1 Moll Pitcher. 

2 The Forest Rose, 

3 Swiss Swains, 

4 Bachelor's Bedroom, 

5 Sophia's Supper, 

6 A Roland fur an Oliver, 

7 Black-eyed Susan, 

8 John Bull, 

VOL. n. 

9 Satan in Paris, 

10 More Blunders than one, 

11 Rosina Meadows, 
13 The Dumb Belle, 

13 My Auntv 

14 Spring and Autunm, 

15 Six Degrees of Crimea 

16 Liniericlc Boy, 

VOL. III. 

17 Presumptive Endence, 

18 Man and Wife, 

19 The Sergeant's Wife, 

20 Masks and faces, 

21 Merry Wives of Windsor, 

22 N«tui-e and Philosophy, 

23 Agnes de Vere, 

24 Shandy Maguire, 

VOL. IV. 

25 Wild Oats, 

26 Michael Erie. 

27 Teddy the Tiler, 

28 Spectre Bridegroom, 

29 Idijt Witness, 

30 Willow Copse, 

31 Matteo Falcone. 

32 People's Lawyer, 

VOL. V. 

38 Jenny Lind, 

34 Comedy of Errori, 

35 Lucretia Borgia, 

36 Surgeon of Paiis. 

37 Patrician's Daughter, 

38 The Two Buzzards, 

39 Shoemaker of Toulouse, 

40 MomwQtnus Question, 



VOL. VI. 

41 Love and Loyalty. 

42 Robber's Wife. 

43 Happy Man, 

44 Dumli Gijl of Genoa. 

45 Wreck Ashore, 

46 Clari. 

47 Miller and his Men. 

48 Wallace. 

VOL. VII. 

49 Madelaine. 

50 Betsey Baker. 

51 The Fireman. 

52 No. 1. Round the Comer, 

53 Teddv Roe. 

54 Grist to the Mill. 

55 Object of Interest. 

56 Two Loves and a Life. 

VOL. VIII. 

57 Anne Blake. 

68 My Fellow Clerk. 

59 Bengal Tiger. 

60 The Steward. 

61 Capt Kyd. 

62 Nick of the Woods. 

63 The Marble Heart 

64 Laughing Hyena. 

VOL. IX. 

65 Second Love. 

66 The Victor Vanquished. 

67 Our Wife 

68 Dream at Sea. 

69 My Husband's Mirror. 

70 Yankee Land. 

71 Norah Cnina, 

72 Good r Nothing. 

1 VOL. X. 

I 

i 73 The First Night 

74 The Rake's Progress. 
• 75 Pet of th.' Petticoats. 

76 The Eaton Boy. 

77 Wandering Mmstiel. 

78 Wanted KXX) Milliners. 

79 Poor Pillicoddy. 

' 80 Breach of Promise. 



VOL. XI. 

81 The Mummy. 

82 The Reviiw. 

83 Lady ol the Lake. 

84 Still \\ater Runs Deep. 
S5 Man of Many friend*. 

86 Love in Li\ ery. 

87 Antony and Cleopatra. 

88 ITie Scholar. 

VOL. XII. 

89 Helping Hands. 

90 Aladdin. 

91 Trjingiton. 

92 Stage Struck Yankee 

93 Viiuiis; Wife & wid 

94 ha-st Man, (Umh'la 

95 \Uf\]eii' Stratagem. 

96 CriTioline. 

VOL. XII.. 

97 Old and Young. 

98 V Family Failing 

99 Iht- Youni; Sciinip, 

100 I'he Adopted Child 

101 The Turned Head. 

102 A Match in the Dark. 

103 \dvice to Hasbanda. 

104 Uaffaelle. 

VOL. XIV. 

ia5 IJnth Oakley 

106 The British Slave. 

107 Siamese Twins, 

108 A Life's Ransom, 

109 Sent to the Tower. 

110 Giralda, 

111 Time Tries all, 

112 KUa R*«enburg. 

VOL. XV. 

113 Somebody Else. 

114 Warlock of the Glen 

115 Zelina, 

116 Ladies' Battle, 

117 Art of Acting, 

118 The Brigand, 

119 The La.ly of the Lions. 

120 NeighlK)r Jackw.iod. 



WILLIAM Y. SPENCEE 
PUBLISHER. 



No. V^S WASHIN(riX)N 
(Corner of Water Street,) 



S 1 KI-: 



B( )STOiN. 



SPENCER'S BOSTON THEATRE No. CXXXIII. 



MY SON DIANA 



jA. F-AuI^CE 



IN ONE ACT. 



WRITTEN BY 

A".^ HARRIS, Esquire, 

AUTHOR OF 

The Little Treasure — Too Much of a Good Thing — Betty Martin — Doing 

the Hansom — The Aviiltnche — Jeayinette' s Wedding — 

Ruth Oakley, Etc. Etc. 



WITH ORIGINAL CASTS, COSTUMES, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE 

BUSINESS, CORRECTLY MARKED AND ARRANGED, BY 

MR. J. B. WRIGHT, ASSISTANT MANAGER 

OP THE BOSTON THEATRE. 



BOSTON : 

WILLIAM V. SPENCER, 
128 Washington Street. 



<b•^ 



'\^t<\ 



^^Y 
^ ^^^ 









i " M 



a -3 












2 gal. 



s £3?i 






' cS a; SO 

"'3 



a 

^^-_— CO c- 

. t>OT''=' o a> « fl 

55a! -an >,pi:^ 

— a o a> ? <i> is 

eS s a * i> S 

c^ '. 7 1 J; 



^7fi^2- 



// 



MY SON DIANA. 



ACT I. 



Scene I. — A comfortably/ Furnished Apartment in a Country house, 
3 & 5 G. Centre door opening upon a park , set doors R. & L. 1 E. 
set doors R. & L. 2 e. — a table with writing materials, on L. c, a table 
R, c. 3 E , upon which are a liqueur case, and a remarkably long meer- 
schaum pipe. 2 chairs on L. H. 2 chairs on R. h. 1 k. 2 chairs R. & l. 

ofG.D. Carpet down. 

John discovered brushing a pair of pantaloons — on the ground before him 
is a pair of ladies' boots. 

John. The boots is right enough — and I think Miss Di's panta- 
loons will do now ! (grinning.) Miss Di's pantaloons ! how funny 
that do sound to be sure! {taps at door, l. h. 2 e.) Please miss, it's 
your lady's maid. 

Enter Culpepper, c. d. l. h. He evinces a strong attempt at military 
erectness of demeanour, the tout ensemble got up in the half-pay officer style 
— he speaks with an affectation of military gruffness and asperity. 

Cut., R. H. [authoritatively.) Hollo, John ! what are you doing 
there ? 

John, L. H. It's Miss Di's things as I'm a takin' her. 

Cid. Ha, ha, ha! a good joke! Why you obtuse rustic, Di's 
been out shooting these two hours. 

John. What a hactive young lady it is. 

{Exit ivith boots and pantaloons, d. l. h. 2 E. 

Cul. Yes ! I flatter myself. I haven't brought Di up in your mod- 
ern boarding school style. No, no ! activity, energy and military 
precision — that's my notion of education. 

Re-enter John, d. l. h. 2 e. 

( To John.) Now then, John, as I expect a gentleman from London, 
I'm going to have some friends to dinner, a few devilish pleasant mil- 
itary fellows, the officers of the West Dribbleton Militia — so you 
must get ready no end of grog and cold punch. 



4 MY SON' DIAXA. 

John, [l. h.] How mortal fond o' soldiers you do seem, sir. 

Cul. Of course I am, John, it's natural enough — brothers in 
arras, you know. 

John. Why, please, sir, I always thought you'd made your money 
with chicory and soap, in the grocery line. 

Cul. [r.h.] Hold your tongue, you jackass. If ever I did meddle with 
groceries, it was on a gigantic scale, in connexion with the commis- 
sariat, many years ago, in India; when I was present, and indeed, 
I may almost say, took part in some of the most brilliant achieve- 
ments ever performed by a British army. 

Jchn. How precious frightened you must ha' been, surely. 

Cul. Frightened ! you scoundrel, how dare you insinuate such a 
thing? No, John, the fire, the smoke, the roar of the cannon, all 
tended to rouse a warlike enthusiasm in my bosom ; and, John, 
there were moments when I really felt — I felt as if — {throwing him- 
self into fencing attitude, and thrusting at John tvith his walking stick,) as 
if I could have — 

John. Oh, don't, sir! 

Cul. As a proof of my admiration for the military character, I 
determined, on my return to Europe, to allow my mustachios to 
grow; and — {looking at John,) T tell you what it is, you turnip- 
headed rascal, if you don't qualify yourself for your present situation 
by getting up a pair within the next fortnight, you may look out for 
another place that's all. 

John. But I'm a lady's maid, and ladies maids don't wear mus- 
tershoos. 

Cul. No remark, small agriculturist ; go and saddle my new high 
mettled charger. ' ' Burrhampooter." I'm determined to have another 
try at him this morning, 

John. What, that 'ere wicious. coffee-coloured animal ? 

Cul. Coffee-colored ! faugh ! chestnut, you donkey ! 

Exit John, c. d. l. h. 
How I do hate the sound of anything that reminds me of my old 
shop in London Wall. Is it possible that I — I, whom Nature evi- 
dently intended for a Wellington, or a Napoleon — can have made my 
fortune by the sale of sugar and soap ? the idea's revolting. 

Enter Louisa, d. b. h. 2 e. 

Louisa, [r. h.] Ah, my dear uncle, good morning. 

Cul. [l. h.] Why, Louisa, you're up by times. 

Louisa. To be sure I am ; this is a grand day, you know. Cousin 
Di's intended is coming to-day. 

Cul. How does that interest you ? 

Louisa. Why, don't you see, uncle, that as soon as Di's married 
I begin to stand a chance, but while she remains single, the gentle- 
man will never take the least notice of me. 

Cul. Dear me, what a desperate hurry the girls are in to get 
married, now-a-days. However, Louisa, I don't blame you; you must 
find it very dull here. You see, you're such a curious girl; you don't 
care about riding, or shooting, or billiards, or skittles, or any other 



MY SON DIANA. 6 

rational recreation. Yesterday I did my utraopt to induce you to try 
your hand at snipe shooting, but it was of no use. 

Louisa. My dear uncle, I confess I'm afraid of fire-arms. 

CuL Weak-minded female, how do you ever expect to get a 
husband ? 

Louisa. But, my dear uncle, everybody hasn'thad the very peculiar 
education you have thought proper to give my cousin Di'. 

Cul. Aha ! a good sound hearty gymnastic education — no nonsense 
about it ! My military predilection made me to long for a son- 
Fate thought proper to bestow on me a daughter — I have, therefore, 
done my best to make up for the disappointment by rendering my 
daughter as like a son as possible . My poor wife made me promise never 
to allow Di' to leave home until she was married — I determined 
therefoi'e, to superintend her education myself ; and so, the mo- 
ment she had attained her fifth year, I popped my son Diana into 
pantaloons, and there she has remained ever since. {Report of a gun 
heard icithout L. h. u. e.) Do you hear that ? — the young rascal's out 
shooting. 

Louisa. She's a first rate shot, I know; but she's utterly incapable 
of hemming a pocket handkerchief. 

Cul. I know she can't hem, but she swims like a dolphin, she can 
leap a four barred, and as to shooting, why she'll split a wafer at 
forty paces ! What a soldier she would have made to be sure. 

Louisa. There's one of her accomplishments that you've forgotten 
to mention ; she's apt to use remarkably emphatic language at times. 
Yesterday, I distinctly heard her say — 

CuL What? 

Louisa. Crikey ! 

Cul. A very mild and lady-like expression. The man who 
marries Di' will have somthing like a wife in her — she'll be as good 
as a husband to him. I've chosen for her a man, when I say a man 
I mean a man ; none of your smooth faced exquisites, but the son of 
my old friend, Major Smith, who, if he is at all like his father, must 
be a thorough fire-eater. 

Enter Mr. Septimus Smith, c. d. l. h., dressed in a very fast costume — 
a neat little black leather sack in his hand. 

Smith, (speaking as he enters.) It's too bad — it's a great deal too bad 
to be letting of guns in this promiscuous manner, {perceiving Culpkpper) 
I beg pardon, {introducing himself.) Mr. Semptimus Smith. 

Cul. (L. H.) What, my future son-in-law ? Smith, my boy, come to 
my arms, {pmhrnces him.) 

Smith, (c.) Gently — don't squeeze. 

Cul. Why, what's the matter ? 

S7nith. Well, I'll tell you ; I was just now walking alongside of a 
hedge voluptuously inhaling the morning breeze, and indulging in 
appropriate quotations from " Thompson's Seasons," when suddenly 
the report of a gun meets my ear, and straightway I receive a volley 
of small shot. 

Oul Where? 



MY SOX DIANA. 



Smith {putting his hand into his coat pocket, and producing a pocket 
book.) In my — in my pocket-book. 

Louisa (r. h.) Dear me what a narrow escape. 

Smith, unpleasantly narrow ! (a5ic?e.)What a remarkably nice look- 
ing girl— my intended, I presume, {aloud,) Introduce me to your 
daughter 

Cul. My daughter ! don't alarm yourself, my boy, my daughter's 
a very superior article. (Louisa goes up stage, r. h.) That's only my niece 
not a bad sort of a girl in her way— paints flowers upon velvet— does 
Berlin wool work, and all that sort of thing— slow, very. Louisa my 
dear, ask Jane or Susan if Mr. Smith's room is ready for him. By the 
way, Where's your luggage ? 

Smith. I requested one of the porters to bring it here from the 
railroad station. 

Cul. Very well ! then, Louisa, you can tell Susan to have Mr Smith's 
luggage carried into his room as soon as it arrives. 

Louisa, {aside) Well I'm sure ! uncle's vastly polite, I declare. 
r, I , . Exit D. R. H. 2. F. 

Lul. (going to table, R. 3. e. holds up liqueur case, and coming down B.. 
exclaims) Brandy, whiskey, or rum ? 
Smith. (L. H. surprised.) Eh ? 
Cul. (R.H.) Brandy — whiskey, or rum ? 

Smith. Thank you , I'm rather nervous just now— I should prefer 
a small glass of ginger wine. 

Cul. Ginger wine ! the son of my old friend drink ginger wine » 
You ! must be out of sorts, man. 

Smith. I confess I don't feel exactly the thing. 
Cut., {presenting him ivith a pipe.) Then blow a cloud my lad. that 
Will soon set you all to rights. 

Smith. Thank you, I don't smoke. 

Cul. Don't smoke ! Come, that won't do-ha, ha, ha ! I see how 
It IS, you re afraid I shall tell Di', you sly young dog you ! But no 
ceremony between you and your father's old brother in arms 

bmith. Dear me, I didn' know you had served 

Cul. Not precisely, but very nearly— I was with the army in 
Bidia so It comes to the same thing. {Laughing inth an affectation of 
ferocity.) Ha ha ! those were the times- when we wanted to light 
our pipes m those days, we used to set fire to a village— ha, ha ! 

o ui, wi. X, .■. . o {Sunting horn hmrd without, l. h. u. e. 

Smith. What's that ? a mail coach ? 

Cul. A mail coach, you pump I that's Di'; now 111 introduce 
you to something rather out of the common. 

Enter Diana, c. d. l. h., dressed in a velvet shooting coat and trousers, a 
gun in her hand. 

Diana. Upeaking off as she enters.-] I say, .John, see after those dogs. 
i^Sif i P york this corning ; an^, I say, .John, try the nl^ 
saddle on the pony ! \ Goes to table r. h. 3 e., and lays down gun. 

Smith, [to CuLPEPPERr] What a fine young fellow-your son I pre- 



MY SON DIANA. 9 

Cul. To be sure, my son Diana, your wife that is to be, you 
lucky dog, you. 

Smith, {astounded?^ Do you mean to tell me that young fellow is 
to be my wife ? 

Gvl. To be sure I do. Here, Di^ my dear, \^Diana comes down o,^ 
allow me to present you to Mr, Septimus Smith. {Aside, to Diana.] 
The young fellow I told you of, you little rogue. 

Diana, [c.J Well, old fellow, how are you ? 

Smith. Well, how are you? I— 

Diana. Hold hard a moment. {Goes toe. T). and speaks off. 1 I 
say, John, while I think of it, just cut an inch or so off that pouy's 
tail. \ Comes down.] Now then, old fellow, what were you trying 
to say? 

Smith. I— I was about to express my deliglit— 

Diana. Oh, never mind all that ! I say, Fve had such sport this 
morning — very near shooting more than my bag would hold. What 
do you think ? I saw something moving along the other side of a 
hedge — made sure it was a hare — bang I let fly — ' 'Hallo ! " roars a 
voice, "I'm sure Fm hit! " Ha, ha, ha! instead of a hare, I had pep- 
pered some unfortunate pedestrian ! ha, ha, ha ! [Smith rubs his 
thigh.] If you had only heard what a fuss the fellow made, and it 
was only small shot after all. 

Smith. {Aside.] I'm. very grateful it was no larger ! 

Enter John, c. d. l. h., running. 

John. Please sir, the coffee-colored hanimal's at the door. 

Cul. {roaring.] Chestnut, you idiot! [TbSaiiTH.J Excuse me, 
I'm just going to break in a high-mettled chestnut charger that 1 
bought the other day. {Goiiig.] Exit John, c. d. l. h. 

Smith, {alarmed.] But I say, you're surely not going to leave us 
together already ? 

Cut. Of course I am. {Aside.] Now then, courage, my lad, on 
to the attack, and when I return let me find that you have won her 
heart in true military style. {Exit, o. d. l. h. 

Diana, [r. h.J {Approaching Ssiith.] Well, Smith, I hear you've 
come down with the intention of making up to me. 

Smith, [l. h.] Well, I'm going to try — 

Diana. Very good ; Fve no particular objection ! I must first of 
all reckon you up, see what soi't of a fellow you are you know, and 
then FU make up my mind without any shilly-shally at once. 

Smith. Believe me, my dear sir — {correcting himself.] I mean my 
dear young person, it shan't be— 

Diana. {Interrupting him.] Why, what an ugly tie you've got on. 

Smith. Don't you like it ? I'll put on another as soon as my lug- 
gage arrives. 

Diana. Do— for that thing fidgets me. Well, old fellow I must be 
off— we shall run across each other again presently. {Holds out her 
hand — they shake hands vigorously. 

Smith. I'm afraid I've been too reserved here— pardon me, my 
dear young person — 



8 MY SON DIANA. 

Diana. Drive on old /eZZar. 

Smith. A— a— how are you ? ' [Holding out his hand.] 

Diana. How are you ? [ T/iey shake hands again. — Aside.] What 
a slow coach it is ! JSxit, c. d. l. h. 

Smith. Well, I was aware, through the illustrations of Punrk, that 
some startling novelties had been lately introduced into female cos- 
tume ; but that young lady's notions of dress are decidedly in ad- 
vance of the age we live in. However, she looked quite killing in 
that little shooting jacket. 

Re-enter John, c. d. l. h. 

John. Please sir, your happartment's ready, and your luggage is 
j)ut in it. 

[Points to room D. R. H. 1 E., and hands him his bag. 
Smith. Thank you, I have no doubt that on better acquaintance 
my ititended will turn out to be a very nice young fellow. 

[Exit D. R. H. 1 E. 

Enter Culpepper, c. d. l. h,, all over mud, rubbing his arm. 

Cul. [Angrily — doivn L. h.] Confound the vicious animal ! 

John. What's the matter now, sir ? 

Cul. The spiteful brute has pitched me oflF. 

John. What, the coffee-colored hanimal ? 

Cul. Coffee — chestnut you idiot ! I was no sooner on than I was 
off again ; but I know how it was, John, I didn't rein him in tight 
enough. 

John. What a precious mess you're in, sir. 

Cul. Just give me a brush, John, and I'll have another shy at 
the obstinate brute. 

John. If you're going to have another shy at 'un, I'd better put 
off the brushing until arterwards . 

Enter Louisa, d. r. h. 2 e. 

Louisa. Oh, my dear uncle, how sorry I am to hear you've had a 
fall. 

Cid. You see, my dear Louisa, I didn't rein him in tight enough. - 

Jjouisa. You're not hurt, I hope ? 

Cul. [Rubbing his shoidder.] Not much — but I'll have another 
touch at the obstinate brute. 

Louisa. You'd much better leave him alone. 

Cul. [Impressivehf.~] My dear neice, the man who suffers himself 
to be overcome by a horse, is unworthy to bestride a donkey. 

Louisa. My dear uncle, maxims like these will break your neck 
some of these days. 

Cul. Then I'll break my neck — but I'll teach the villain ! 

[Exit, c. D. L. H. 

John. [Flourishing brush] We'll teach the villain ; 

[Exit c. D. L. H. 



MY S0\ DIANA. 9 

Louisa. Poor uncle, I'm afraid he'll never make much of a rider 
Eater Smith, d. e. h. 1 e. 

Smith, [as he enters.'] She said she did not like my other tie, so 
I've put on one with a little more color in it. Ah, the little cousin. 

Louisa. What, alone, sir ? 1 imagined you were with Miss Cul- 
pepper. 

Smith. I'm looking for her. [Aside.'] I'll take the opportunity 
of making a few inquiries on ^he subject of my intended. [Aloud.] 
What an uncommonly nice girl your cousin is — so meek, so retiring — ■ 

Louisa. Yes, she is indeed a charming young person. 

Smith. And yet, do you know, between you and me, it strikes me 
she is rather — that's to say, she is just a little — isn't she now. 

Louisa. She is a charming young person. 

Smith. Precisely my opinion. Her manners are so mild, her 
style of costume so remarkably quiet and unobtrusive, and then she 
looks so bewitching in her shooting jacket, that when in ball cos- 
tume, I'm sure she must be irresisitble. 

Louisa. She certainly is a charming young person. 

Smith. She is indeed; besides, T understand, that to every bril- 
liant accomplishment, she adds every domestic virtue — no one better 
versed in the domestic economy of a household — the jam and pickle 
department — how to kill blackbeetles — and all that sort of thing. 

Louisa. There's no denying that she is a charming young person. 

Smith. [Aside.] How she keeps saying that over and over again. 
[Aloud.] Is she anything of a musician. 

Louisa. She plays the cornet beautifally. [Eagerly.] My dear 
sir, I trust you will do your utmost to obtain her hand — you will now, 
won't you? 

Smith, (aside.) She seems very anxious on the subject — I wonder if 
she's to receive a commission on the transaction, (aloud.) You appear 
greatly interested in my success. But where is the lovely Diana all 
this time? 

Louisa. Dressing, I presume ; doing her utmost to render herself 
agreeable in the eyes of her future husband. 

Smith. Ah, then, 1 shall now have the pleasure of beholding her in 
legitimate . female attire, with the due proportion of flounce and 
crinoline. 

Diana, (loithout, 0. D. L. H.) John, you needn't go — I've changed my 
mind. 

Louisa. Here she comes — I'll leave you. (going to d. r. h. 2 e.) I say, 
Mr. Smith, do^y and get her to have you— do, now ! 

Exit, D. R. H. 2 E. 

Smith. She comes! — (fumbling in his pockets.) the moment for 
presenting my earrings is at hand ! Pll insert them myself !— 
entrancing thought ! 

Enter Diana in same dress as before, c. d. l. h. 



to MY SON DIANA. 

Diana, (doton r. h.) I told you I shouldn't be long. 

Smith, (l. h. holding in his hand a small jewel box and a fan — aside) 
Still got 'em on ! 

Diana, (r. n. perceiving Jewel box.) Why, what have you got there? 

Smith, (opening box and presenting it.) A pair of earrings. 

Diana. Why you don't mean to say you wear this sort of thing? 

S7nith.'Nol — I have brought them with the intention of offering 
them to — 

Diana. Whom ? 

Smith. To you. 

Diana. Ha, ha, ha ! — come, now, you don't mean that ! You 
don't suppose I'd walk with a pair of decanter stoppers dangling 
from my ears ; besides, I've got no holes in my ears to hook 'em in. 

Smith, (aside disconcerted) Cost me twenty pounds the pair, and 
calls 'em decanter stoppers ! — nice ideas of jewelry she seems to 
have, (aloud.) Possibly this fan may suit you better. 

Diana, (taking it.) Dear me, how very pretty! 

Smith, (aside.) Come, that's lucky. 

Diana, (examining fan.) A stag and dogs— a hunting subject, I 
declare ; but what am I to do with it ? 

Smith. Oh, when you're unpleasantly warm, you've only to — 
(imitating the action of fanning) 

Diana. La, bless ye, when I'm unpleasantly warm, I just have out 
the pony, and canter along till I get cool again. 

Smith. A very excellent plan, I've no doubt ; but if you're in a ball- 
room, you can't have out your pony their. 

Diana, (returning fan.) And so you brought me this to cool myself 
with, did you ? Ha, ha, ha ! wliat a curious fellow you are. 

Smith, (aside.) Another time I'll bring htr a cricket bat, or a 
revolver. 

Diana. Hallo, you've changed your tie. 

Smith. Yes, you said you didn't— 

Diana. Well, of the two I prefer the other. 

Smith, (aside.) Upon my life there's no pleasing this whimsical 
young lady; however, I'll try how a little of the tender will do. (gets 
chairs.) Will you sit down? 

[ They sit, Diana crosses her legs — Smith looks at her, then pulls up his 
trousers and shows socks.] 

Smith. Do you like my socks ? 

Diana. Oh, yes. 

Smith. I'll buy you a pair — only a shilling. 

Diana. Tell me, are you anything of a shot ? 

Smith. Not much ; I seem to answer better as a mrget. (aside.] 
Confound this male attire, it quite checks the flow of one's ideas. 
[aloud.] I understood that you were going to dress — 

Diana. Well, what do you call this ? 

Smith. Very pretty, no doubt ; but not in the least suggestive to a 
young gentleman about to propose. 

Diana. Don't I look well in it ? 

Smith. The object of one's affections looks well in anything — you'd 



MT SON DIANA. 11 

look well in jack boots. Oh, Diana, when two fond hearts — ^I mean when 
one fou(i heart — no, I mean when two fond hearts — [aside, risinc/.'J 
I can't do it — I can't oret the steam up while she's got those things on. 

Diana. I say old fellow, you don't seem at all well — what's the 
matter with you ? 

Smith, (sitting down again.) I eat half a pint of gooseberries as I 
came along. Oh, Diana, who could resist those charms — those arms of 
Parian marble — [aside.) Confound the coat sleeves; [aloud \ those 
hands whiter then driven snow, [aside.'] She's put them in her pockets. 
I'll make a rush ! (aloud.) Oh, Diana — (puts his arm round her waist.) 

Diana, (rising) Gently, my good fellow — hold hard ! what are you 
about ? 

Smith. I don't know — I think I was brushing away a fly. (aside.) 
It's of no use — I shall never be able to do it while she's got up 
in this style. 

Diana. Upon my word, Smith, you're a very extraordinary sort 
of fellow! come and see my dogs. 

Smith. Thank you — I don't care about dogs. 

Diana. That being the case, then, I'm off. (holding out her hand.) 

Smith, (shaking hands with her, aside, ) What a deuce of a fellow it is 
for shaking hands. 

Diana, (aside, going) What a singular mortal— he is about the 
slowest coach I ever met with. Ha, ha, ha! (Exit, c.j).jj.n. 

Smith. A nice person that, to lead to the hymeneal altar! pretty 
mother of a family he'd make ! Why, the children wouldn't know 
which was the father. I wonder now if she 's got such a thing as a gown 
at all? 

Enter John, c. d l. h. down l. h. 

John. Master's been ten minutes a gettin' on, it won't take 
him ten minutes to get off again. 

Smith, (aside.) Ah! the servant — I'll ask him a question or two. 
Come here, John ; hasn't your young master got any ladies' 
dresses ? 

John. What, Miss Di? Oh, yes, sir; she's got one, which she makes 
herself oncomfortable in, whenever we have strangers to dinner, sir, 
but then she's got no end of summer trousers. 

Smith. Summer trousers! nice wardrobe for a young lady! What 
does she do with herself all day long ? 

John. Oh, she does all manner o'things ; she rides, fences, swims — 

Smith. What? 

John. Swims. 

Smith. Go along ! you don't mean to say she goes so ? 

[imitates swimming. 

John. Every morning. 

Smith. Well I never I What else does she do ? 

John. She practises her pistol shooting — oh she's a splendid shot ! 
she could smash a fly on the tip o'your nose. 

Smith. Lor! but does she never stitch, or embroider, or poke holes 
in somthing and sew them up again ? 



12 MY 80N DIANA. 

John. Oh, no ! that ain't in Miss Di's line at all. 

Smith. Well I never ! (liside x. to l. ii.) However, it seems she has got 
a gown somewhere — Ishouldii't like tj speak to her on the subject, so 
I'll write her a line and beg her to do me the favor to put it on. John, 
I'll get you to deliver a leiter for me [sits at tableh. h. atid writes.} 

John. Cerc'niy. sir, [holding hand out significantly.) Hope you're 
satisfied with the information I've given you, sir ? 

(^Pauses and then repeats his observation. 

Smith, (writing.) Oh, perfectly. 

John, (aside.) What a stingy cliap it is ! 

Smith, (folding up letter.) Cutting — sarcastic — we'll see what effect 
that will have on her ? (reading address on envelope, as he writes.) 
" iMister Culpepper, Junior." (gives letter toJoRS, and as he enters door, 
E. H 1. E,) I flatter myself that will sting her. 

Hxit, D. E. H. 1 E. 

John, (reading address.) Ha! ha! "Mr, Culpepper, Juner, J unerl" 

Enter Diana, c. d. l. h. down r. 

Diana. There's something the matter with my bull terrier, Dido — 
the poor beast mopes dreadfully. 

John. A letter for you, miss. 

Diana. For me? hand it over. 

John. Dear me — I must run and pick up master, he's off by this 
time. Exit, c. d, l. h. 

Diana, (reading.) '• To Mr. Culpepper, Junior — My dear young lady, 
I came here for the purpose of being introduced to my intended wife, judge 
of my surprise, on finding that the lady in question ivas a remarkably hand- 
some young man." — Why, the rascal's making game of me — [reads.} "a 
wife is generally considered an essential item in every well organized 
married couple — of us two, surely I cannot be expected to represent that 
character, and therefore, should you undertake the part, I shall feel greatly 
obliged by your performing it in appropriate costume." (crumbling up letter.) 
The insolent scoundrel ! we'll see whether he's to insult me in this 
manner with impunity, [knocks at d. r, h, 1 e,, with handle of her riding 
whip.} I say, Mister what's your name — 

Unter Smith, d. r. h. 1 e. 

Smith. May I inquire — 

Diana. Is this your handwriting ? 

Smith, (aside.) My missive has taken effect T see. 

Diana. You admit that this epistle is yours ? 

S7nith. A little crumpled perhaps, but mine beyond a doubt. 

Diana. Are you prepared, this very instant, to withdraw the offen- 
sive observation in which you have dared to indulge ? 

Smith. Allow me to remark that if either of us has anything to 
tvithdraw — (looking significantly at Diana's pantaloons.} it certainly 
isn't me. 

Diana, (angrily.) So, sir, you have the audacity to turn me into 
ridicule, have you ? 



MY SON DIANA. 



13 



Smith. Not for the world, I — 

Diana, [walking dose up to him.'] You presume to read me a lesson 
do you ? 

Smith, (retreating.) I merely wished to offer you a little advice — 

Diana. Which I do not choose to receive, sir. 

S/nith. (still retreating.) By Jove, what a young vixen. 

Diana, [following him up.] I flatter myself I know how to distin- 
guish between friendly advice and obtrusive impertinence, [throws 
at him the fragments of the letter ivhich she has been tearing up. 

Smith, (aside. ) Oh ! I've swallowed my false tooth ! 

Diana. Hark ye, sir, (ina mgsterious tone.) at the end of the park 
there's a lonely avenue — 

Smith, (aside.) Is she going to challenge me, I wonder ? 

Diana. To-morrow morning at eight i shall expect you there ; 
come prepared to make a sweeping apology, or to receive a good 
Bound horse wipping. 

Smith, (aside) A horsewipping from the object of my affections ! 

Diana. Here's my father — not a word before him. 

JEnter Culpepper, c. d. l. h. down c, covered with mud, 

Cul. (c, rubbing his elbow.) The devil take that high mettled 
chestnut charger ! 

Smith, [r. U.J What's the matter now? 

Cul. (c.) The brute has thrown me again, that's all ; but I know 
how it was, I reined him in too tight again. Come, my turtle doves, 
how are you getting on ? 

Diana, (l, h. looking daggers at Smith.) Oh, admirable ! 

Smith, (aside.) What a ferocious glance that was. 

Cul. I'm afraid I've interrupted a tender tete-a-tete. 

Smith. Remarkably tender ! we were billing and cooing in a way 
pecooliar to ourselves. 

Diana, (significanthj.) We were arranging a little pleasure party, 

Cul. Not for to-day, I hope; I expect company to dinner you know; 
and the guests will soon begin to arrive. Di', you had better dress to 
receive them. 

Diana. I will, father, (going l.) 

Cul. But my dear Di', is that the way to leave your fond and 
faithful luver '? Come, now, my children, I permit you to embrace 
one another — I won't look. 

Smith, [aside.] The devil he does ! 

Diana, (aside.) Embrace him, not I ! (approaching Smith, and ivhile 
pretending to embrace him, whispers.) To-morrow at eight ! 

Smith, [in a melodramatic tone.] I shall be there ! 

Diana slaps him violently on the hack and runs off, d. l. h. 2 e. 

Cul. Smith, my boy, I'm a man of penetration, I can see you've 
made a formidable impression upon my daughter's heart. 

Smith. I don't know what impression I've made on her heart, I 



14 MY SOX DIANA. 

know slie's made a violent one on my back — but there's one little 
circumstance whick 1 should like to talk over with you. 

Cul. Bj-and bye, my dear boy, by-and-by — I must run and dress, 
for my military friends will be here shortly, [culling.] John ! 

Filter John, c. d. l. h. 

Get me out a white cravat and place my dress coat in readiness, 
[rubbing himself.] I wish I'd thought twice before I'd bought that high 
mettled chestnut charger; but I'll break him in. 

Exit, D. L. H 1 E. 

John. We'll tickle his toby ! £xit, o. l. h. I e. 

Smith. Well, this is remarkably pleasant, certainly, — here I am 
with the agreeable prospect of a horsewhipping from the young lady 
I've come to p jp the question to. How very necessary it is to study the 
character of the persou you intend to marry. Biess my soul, if this 
little termagant should ever become Mrs. Smith, I should be obliged 
to sleep with pistols under my pillow, and a sword by the bedside, 
and if ever I presumed to find fault with what there was fur dinner, 
I should be forthwith requestel to name my time, place and weapons! 
I think my wisest plan will be to retiu-n to town by the very next 
train. Ah! the little cousin again. 

Enter Louisa, d. r. h. 2 e. 

Louisa, [eagerly.'] Well, Mr. Smith, how are you getting on? 

Smith. My great anxiety at the present moment is to know how to 
get oflf. You don't happen to know when the next train leaves for 
London ? 

Louisa, [astonished.] But surely you're not going — 

Smith. I must confess, I'm sneaking off in the most contemptible 
manner, to escape a horsewhipping from the object of my affections. 

Louisa, [disappointed] Then you're not going to marry her? 

Smith. I fervently hope not — I'd as soon think of marrying Gordon 
Gumming, the Lion Slayer. 

Louisa. Dear, dear, how very unfortunate ; what an unlucky 
girl 1 am ! 

Smith. You ! 

Louisa, [eagerly.] But perhaps you'll persuade one of your friends 
to have her, do — there's a good fellow ! 

Smith. Well, I know a major in the Horse Artillery, who, with a 
deal of persuasion might be induced to sacrifice himseif. Ah, if you 
were the lady — 

Louisa. I ! 

Smith. Ay, you're a real woman, you are — you've got shoulders, 
you have, and I can see 'em. 

Louisa, [confused.] Really, sir, I — 

Smith. Allow me to ask you a question. Did you ever have your 
ears pierced ? 

Louisa. (surj)rised .) Yes ! 



MY SON DIAN^A. 15 

Smith. Stop a moment then, \ fumbles in his pocket.'] Here, my dear 
young lady, accept these and this. 

(giving earrings and fan. 

Louisa, [taking them.'] But why give them to me ? 

Smith. Because you're lovely, irresistible ; and really I see no 
reason why I shouldn't — 

Louisa. Shouldn't what ? 

Smith. After all— why shouldn't I ? I came here to marry some- 
body, why shouldn't I have her as well as anybody else? [abruptli/.j 
Can you swim ? 

JjO'tisa. No. 

Smith, Can you fence ? 

Louisa. No. ^ 

Smith. Can you smash a fly on the tip of a man's nose ? 

Louisa. Dear me no ! 

Smith. That being the case, I at once offer you my hand and heart. 

Louisa. Nonsense, sir, impossible ! 

Smith. You disdain my suit ? 

Louisa. It would be very wrong of my to rob cousin Di' of her young 
man. 

Smith. I'm not her young man — I'm only the young man she's 
going to horsewhip. 

Louisa. No sir, 1 cannot think of encourasing your addresses until 
I have received my cousin's consent to my doing so. 

Smith. I'll get your cousin's consent ; but first of all, let me nerve 
myself for the arduous enterprise with a kiss. 

[as he is kissing her. 

Enter Diana, d. l. h. 2 e., elegantly dressed in female costume. 

Louisa utters an exclamation, and runs off, d. r. h. 2 e. 

Smith, [aside.] By .Jove, she saw us— so much the better. 

Diana, [somewhat piqued.] Pray don't let me disturb you — you 
were conversing, I think with my cousin, [angrily.] Perhaps, sir 
you will explain what you mean by — 

Smith, \struck by the change in her dress^ Why, I declare, you've 
taken off your — and put on your — 

Diana, [sharply.] Never mind me, sir ; we were speaking of my 
cousin. 

Smith. Ah. you observed that little affectionate demonstration ? 
I really couldn't help it ; I was so delighted at meetinQ^ with a real 
genuine female woman, the only specimen of the genus I had met 
with in the neigborhood, I could'nt help it; and what's a young 
man to do when he can't help it? 

Diana. May I inquire what you call me, sir ? 

Smith. Well, now you've put on your ladv's dress, yon Velong to 
the fairer portion of creation. What a difference between you and 
your cousin. 

Diana, [disdainfully.] A little milk and water girl ! 



16 MY SON DIANA. 

Smith. I grant you she is your inferior in many reppects. She 
does n't know how to swim, has never horsewhipped anybody, and 
as to shooting, I'll wajrer she's utterly incapable of hitting a haystack. 

Diana. You'd bettor mind what you're about, sir. 

Smith. She blushes when people look at her, and casts down her 
eyes. [Diana casts down her ei/es.] Ah ! much in that style. \ Diana 
lookx hastily up ac/ain.'] You see we men. I say loe men > like that sort 
of thing — strength, courage and detrmination are the attributes of 
tis men, but in a woman, we seek for gentleness, mildness, and 
confiding timidity. 

Diana, [aside] He doesn't reason so badly, either, [aloud.'] I admit 
that my cousin Louisa has been better educated, more carefully 
brought up than I — I have no doubt also — [pi(^d.] you think her 
much prettier. 

Smith. Prettier — oh, no ! on the contrary, — you are lovely, and 
when you have your hair parted down the middle, over your nose, 
you'll be charming. 

Diana. Oh, I don't pretend to know much about dress— besides, 
I've no lady's maid. 

Smith, [eagerly.] Will you allow me to officiate in that capacity ? 

Diana. Sir ! [Smith places chair. Diana sits aside.] I'm beginning to 
think he's not such a very stupid fellow, afrer all. 

Smith [arranging her hair.] And when this curl falls gracefully so, 
and this one so, — I'm considered to have considerable taste in hair 
dressing. 

Diana, [aside.] He really is very obliging. 

Smith, [admiringly] Those b"autiful arras — what a shame it was 
to imprison them in the sleeves of a shooting jacket — your darling 
little feet, too — what a shame to encase them in a pair of double-soled 
Balmorals. 

Diana, [laughing.] Do you think so ? 

Sjnith. And those shoulders — oh! those shoulders— they've done 
forme, [kissing her shoulder.] 

Diana, [not altogether displeased.] Mr. Smith, what are you about 
sir? 

Smith. Let me have another — only let me have another, and I'U 
consent to undergo horsewhipping every day, for the rest of me life. 

Enter Louisa, d. r. h. 2 e. 

Louisa, [hastily, aside to Smith.] Do you call this asking permission ? 

Smith, [aside^ The little cousin — I'd forgotten all about her. [to 
Louisa mysteriously.] Man is the creature of destiny — I am the 
creature of destiny. I made you an offer — forget it —I can't do it now 
— Fate has willed it otherwise. 

Louisa, [disappointed.] Eh ? 

Smith. Never mind ; I'U telegraph up to London for a husband for 
you. 

Louisa. Will you though ? What's his profession ? 



MY SON DIANA. 17 

Smith. He's in tlie " Woods and Forests "—he does nothing all day 
from ten to four, and gets three hundred a year for it. 

Louisa, \delighted.] That will just do ! 

Diana, [approaching Smith, and -pinching his arm.'] What are you 
saving to me cousin, sir? 

'Smith, [aside — much phased.'] Jealous, by Jupiter! The woman's 
beginning to peep out. 

Enter Culpepper, d. l. h. 1 e. 

My dear sir, let me congratulate you upon the possession of the most 
charming daughter that ever father was biessed with. 

Old. You're riglit there, my boy. Stop till jou see her on horse- 
back. Di,' you shall try my high mettled chestnut charger to-morrow. 

Diana. [c.J No. dear father ; I think T prefer the pony. 

Cut. You don' t mean to say you're afraid ? 

Diana. Oh, dear no ; but you see, my dear father, a 3'oung lady — 

Smith. Is one thing, and a tamer of wild animals is anotlaer. 
[leading Diana toivards front of stage.] Does our appointment for to- 
morrow morning hold good ? 

Diana, [archly] I think we may consider that little aflFair arranged. 
I yield the point at issue, an<l promise to discard shooting jackets and 
study the " Lady's Book of Fashions " for the future. Yes, [to Smith.] 
I feel that you were right. Prowess; and dexterity are the attributes 
of man, but a woman's best accomplishments are those which render 
her useful at home. I've a great deal to learn, I know, but if a 
willing heart makes an apt scholar, you may rely on the rapid pro- 
gress of — 

Cul. [taking her hand .] My son — Diana! 

SITUATIONS. 
Smith. Diana. 



omsA. 




Culpepper 


B. H. 


CURTAIN. 


L. H. 



Spencer's Boston Theatre. 

Price, 13 1-2 C^nts, each. Ten for One Dollar. 
BOUND VOr.lJMKS. SI. 



VOL. XVI. 



!21 'I'he Wniuler, 

U-2 I'he Uiuht.s of Man. 



VOL. XVIL 

12fl Flowers of the Forest, 
\M) F.>rfv and Fifty. 



VOL. XVIIL 

ir A Quiet Ftiiuily. 

liS lliisltand of an h lOr, 

l:«t Love's Telepraph. 

1 +0 Th.' \aiad Queen. 

141 Caprice. 
142 



12 1 liohiTlKnimet, : lU Who Stole the Pocketbook 

124 Mv Husbands Ghost. 1:?2 A I'.a. helor ..f Aits, 

12") Fiijhii igliv Proxy. [G.nne l-Vi MyS-.n Pinnji, 

'2(5 Two Can Play "at that ^ l'^4 The Midni-ht Banquet. 

■;27 Unjiroteited Female, IT) UnwarranUlde Intrusion. 14 5 

:28 Green Bushes. 136 Mr. & Mrs White. i 144 

WILLIAM V. SPENCER^ 

WUOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN 

§ooli5, flags, ^np^ines, 

TOY BOOKS, SONG BOOKS, 

NEWSPAPERS, ENGRAVINGS, MUSIC, 

AND 

STATIONERY 

All New Publications for sale as soon as issued. 
No. 128 WASHINGTON STREET, 



HIT of 

Street, 



} BOSTON. 



PARCELS SENT TO ANY PART OF THE CITY. 

sar- Orders by Mail or Express will be promptly attended to.. 



ifiiiii Hi Fiiiii 



PRIVATE REPRESENTATION 



Two Characters Each. 

Dachelor's Bitlnxtm 

No. 1, lloiiiiil the Corner, 

Conjugal Li'ssDU, 

Morning Cull. 

Antony and Clopatrii, 
, A Lady and Gentleman in 
I j a reri)lcxing riedicament. 
■ . Personation, 

: Three Characters. 

Box and Cox, 
' Love in Ilnmlde Life, 

Delie:ite Ground, 
! G<H)d Little Wife, 

My Wife's Diary, 
\ Opposite Neighbors, 
I A Soldier's Courtship, 
'> Sent to the Tower, 
I , Two can play at that game. 
i Advice to Husbands, 

Four Characters. 

Betsey Baker, 
Bombastes Furioso, 
Victor Vanquished, 
Corned V and Tragedy, 
A Good Fellow, 
Romance Under Difficulties, 
Laughing Hyena- 
, Cosey Couple, 

j I Five Characters. 

I ! Poor Pillicoddy, 
\ Swiss Swains, 

Nature and Philosophy, 
j Eton Boy, 
I Bloomer Costume, 
j A Kiss in the Dark, 
Swiss Cottage, 



Ladies Beware, 

Two Buzzards, 

Young wife & Old Umbrella. 

Two Gregories, 

Who SjKjaks First, 

White Bait at Greenwich, 

In for a Holiday, 

Two Heads better than One. 

Six Characters. 

riisjhts of Man, 

Siaini se Twins, 

My Iliviband's Ghost, 

Mr. & Mrs. White. 

My Hasband's Mirror, 

My Aunt, 

Dumb Belle, 

Stage Struck Yankee, 

Trying it On, 

Tcddv Koe, 

Box & Cox Married A Settled, 

Loan of a Lover, [shaw, 

Griinshaw, Bagshaw & Brad- 

My Neighl)0ui-'8 Wile, 

The Secret, 

Two Friends, 

Two Bonnycastles, 

Widow's Victim, 

A Fasinating Individaal, 

Match Making, 

A Match in the Dark, 

Bengal Tiger. 

Seven Characters. 

A Family Failing, 
The Scholar, 
The Limerick Boy, 
Spring and Autumn, 
Object of Interest, 
Grist to the Mill, 
Wandering Minstrel, 



Clo<-k M.aker's Hat, 
Irish Tiger, 
Norah Creina. 
Family Jars. 
Irish Tutor. 
Irish Assurance, 
Slasher and Crasher, 
Hunting a Turtle, 
Second Love. 
Our Wife. 

Eight Characters. 
Love in Livery, 
A Roland for an Oliver, 
Barrack lUwra, 
Dead Shot, 
First Night, 
The Mummy, 
Our Jemiiny, 
Spectre Bridegroom, 
FishOut of Water. 
Time Tries All, 
The Yoiuig Scamp, 
Fighting by Proxy, 

Nine Characters. 

My Fellow Clerk, 

Rough Itiamond, 

BamlxK>zling, 

Deaf as a Post, 

Hai>i)y Man, 

Irish Lion, 

Idiot Witness, 

Lady of the Lions, 

Omnibus, 

Old Guard, 

Little Treasure, 

Sophia's Supper, 

Temptation, 

Used Up, 

Weatherawk, 

John Jones, 

Still Waters Run Deep. 



Price, 12 1-2 Cents, eaeh Ten for One Dollar. 

NO PLAYS EXCHANGED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. 



On band a large assortment of 

ENGLISH AND AMERICAN EDITIONS OP 

All New Plays for sale as soon as issued, at 
128 WASHINGTON STREET, 

(Comer of Water Street, ) B O S T O HST . 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



